


To the Moon and Back

by godcomplexfics (godtiercomplex)



Series: The History of the World in Your Arms [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (or was it???), M/M, Nostalgia, past-AmeChu, the moon landing wasn't faked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8215999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godtiercomplex/pseuds/godcomplexfics
Summary: Despite the continued growing hostility between their nations, Yao cannot help but to contemplate the person he finds himself missing the most.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shilly requested bittersweet AmeChu and I’m such a fan of that.
> 
> I need to add that she requested this in December 2015? It's October 2016? So...sorry about that. This year has been horrible fic production wise. Apparently I just let this sorta sit in my fic folder for the better part of a year???? 
> 
> So I had Izzy help me polish it up and I'm going to post it now. I'm working through posting all my older drafts of stuff so I can start clean in 2017 when I go off hiatus officially.

 In America, Yao knew, they were celebrating. In Russia, he figured, they were trying to figure out how to spin this. As far as Yao went, he was on his couch, feet curled up beneath him, and trying to remember how to breath. Americans were on the moon. They were on the moon and it was an incredible achievement for humanity as a whole. Yao felt excitement coursing through his body as he watched them. These weren’t his people, but he couldn’t help but get caught up in the wonder of it all.

He felt something like pride that Alfred had come so far and done such an incredible thing. He was envious as well. He wanted this for his people.

He sighed and turned away from the tv. He would wager that a lot of people all over the world were calling the young nation to congratulate him on his people’s success. Should he call?

Decades ago, it seemed now, he would have called. It wouldn’t have been a big deal as it was now. Decades ago, though, they had been lovers. Now they weren’t anything but red and blue, lines on maps, and guns drawn and ready to shoot. It was disheartening.

Of course, if anyone asked, he never told them about the secret nights during the war when he would go to Alfred’s bed, or when the man would come to his own hotel room. The days spent like that were almost a bittersweet memory, tainted now by the fact that Alfred had drawn a line in the sand and Yao was on the opposite side. They were enemies and would be as long as Alfred preached democracy, and Yao held on to his communist beliefs. That was just the way the world worked.

They had been so wonderful together, and now they weren’t anything of the sort.

Yao turned back to the tv in time to see one of the astronauts plant a flag on the moon. It was the American flag of course. There was no wind but it stood at attention. Yao wondered at that even as he shook his head; of course the Americans would plant their own flag on the moon. He would have thought they’d plant a UN flag, but he didn’t care overly much for the UN.

He wondered if they would meet Chang’e up there, or even the moon rabbit. The moon was so far outside of his realm of experience that it wasn’t hard to imagine that a goddess could be up there, living up there for nearly as long as he had been a thought. A concept, an ideal of what a nation could be. And Alfred had reached it in a way that Ivan had not been able to. His people were on the moon. The first.

It was fitting in a way. The hero always had to win right? He supposed that made him the villain in this drama. But he didn’t feel like a villain. He didn’t feel like a hero either. He was just a man. One who found himself missing another man.

And how he found himself missing him was what got to him the most. He was lonely, but not in a way that anyone’s company would do. No. He was missing blue eyes, blond hair, and a smile that never quite went away. He was missing the hero who had charmed him into his bed again and again. Life wasn’t fair, and he had never bemoaned that fact more than now, here, with Americans on the moon and Alfred even more out of reach than before.

When did he become so sentimental? Alfred couldn’t have weakened him this much. No, time and years had done that on its own. Alfred had just helped in his own way.

Yao sighed. He stood up and stretched and went to make tea. That would distract him.

He made the tea, and his phone rang. It was his boss wanting to know if he was watching the show the Americans were putting on. He told the being that he was, and hung up.

His hand rested on the phone after he did that, and he considered calling that way too familiar number. It wouldn’t have changed, he knew. Maybe because Alfred was just as sentimental as he was?

He kept his hand on the phone and imagined how a conversation between them would go. Would Alfred hang up? Would he stay on the line out of respect for what they had been? Would he even be at home on this day of days?

Yao sighed, and kept his hand on the phone as he imagined the possibilities of what could be.


End file.
